


Your Human Hands

by Icarus (Slickarus)



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bobby Maler he's the worst, But mostly not graphic, Does not have a happy ending, M/M, Mystery, The Supernatural, Think College-Age, some sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slickarus/pseuds/Icarus
Summary: When Hanschen and Ernst receive an invitation to a stranger's party, Ernst is apprehensive, but Hanschen convinces him to go. Perhaps they should have been a bit more cautious...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoy this, and please feel free to leave feedback. The premise came to me in a dream. There is non-con, but it isn't graphic, I just don't want you to go into it unprepared.

Ernst found the card wedged in their mail slot. The envelope (yes, it had an envelope) was a muted orange, as was the card inside. There was no name and no address on the front, the only indication of where it came from was the address on the inside under the words inviting them to Bobby Maler’s party Saturday.

“I don’t know a Bobby Maler,” Ernst said after he read the card aloud. “Is he in one of your classes?” Hanschen shrugged.

“I can look him up on facebook.” A few clicks later, he shook his head. “I got nothing.”

“Who invited us, then?”

“Does it matter? A party’s a party.”

“Still…” Ernst looked over the card for clues. “What if this is for someone else?”

“It was in our door; someone must have put it there intentionally.”

“Someone we don’t know? Hanschen, I don’t want to get murdered.”

“We’re not going to get murdered, it’s a  _ party _ .” Hanschen plucked the card from Ernst’s fingers and gave him a quick peck. “What could go wrong?”

“If this were a horror movie, you’d be killed first.” Hanschen laughed.

“Look, we can drive by the house. If there’s no party, we’ll know right away.” 

“So you want to go?”

“You know how much I love parties.” Ernst rolled his eyes.

“Fine, but if there’s anything creepy about the house, we’re coming straight home.”

“Ernst, I’ve never done anything straight in my life.” That earned him a shove on the shoulder.

* * *

 

The house was pretty easy to find, as the sounds of an already-pulsing party were spilling out of the windows. The guy didn’t have any neighbors, which one one hand was unsettling, but on the other, probably a good thing.

“It’s huge,” Ernst commented as he craned his neck to see the top of the house - no, the  _ mansion _ .

“Maybe this guy’s loaded and that’s why he can afford to invite randos to his party.” Hanschen parked the car and climbed out. “Like a modern Jay Gatsby.” Ernst snorted.

“Jay Gatsby didn’t have to send out invitations.”

“You know what I mean.” He reached for Ernst’s hand and they walked together up the long pathway to the house.

“Should we knock?”

“Doesn’t seem like that kind of party.” Just then, the door swung open and the music got louder. On the other side was a guy about their age. He grinned at them.

“How’s it going?” Ernst and Hanschen looked at each other, unsure of how to respond.

“Is this your house?” Ernst asked, and Hanschen rolled his eyes. The other guy shook his head.

“Nah, I actually don’t know the host. I got an invite and didn’t wanna be rude. Do you know him?” They shook their heads. “Huh. You should come in, though. The party’s hopping.” He closed the door behind them. “I’m Moritz, by the way.”

When they went inside, they could see what was happening more clearly. There was a big room off the main entrance that was full of bodies bathed in colored lights and dance music, and that seemed to be the main source of the noise. In the rest of the rooms, a constant level of chatter could be heard, occasionally punctuated by the whoops of some particularly excited partygoers. Ernst instinctively latched onto Hanschen’s arm.

“Do you guys want something to drink?” Hanschen turned to Ernst.

“Can you go? I’ve gotta find a bathroom.” Ernst nodded and Hanschen took off down the hallway, leaving him to follow Moritz. He could already feel his pulse speeding up as Hanschen disappeared and he was alone in a house full of strangers.

They got to the kitchen, and the first thing Ernst noticed was a couple sprawled across the counter with lips that were very interested in one another’s. Moritz made a startled noise when he saw them and disappeared, which Ernst found odd. He decided he wasn’t  _ that _ ready to party yet, so he went to the fridge to try and find a soda. At the sound of the door shutting, the couple pulled apart for the first time.

“Oh my god,” the girl said, sitting up on top of her partner. “We got so carried away. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ernst said, and noticed for the first time that the guy, still horizontal on the counter, was shirtless.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “It’s not a big deal, Wendla.”

“I just don’t want to be rude,” she continued. “I mean, we’re in  _ public _ ! At a stranger’s house! And people like, uh,” she looked to Ernst.

“Ernst,” he supplied, moving out of the way so another partygoer could reach into the fridge.

“Ernst,” she said, as if she’d known but only just forgotten. “People like Ernst have to watch us practically fucking every time they want something to drink. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Wait,” Ernst said. “You don’t know whose house this is either?”

“Bobby Maler, right?” The guy said. “That’s what was on the invitation, anyway.”

“But we don’t know him,” Wendla answered. “Melchi’s friend Moritz didn’t either, but we all got invitations.”

“Huh,” Ernst said. Did no one here know this Bobby person?

“We should go find another room,” she said to the guy (Melchi, Ernst presumed.) “And leave Ernst in peace.” Ernst shrugged.

“I don’t mind; I’m just waiting for Hanschen.”

“Hanschen Rilow?” Melchi said, sitting up next to Wendla on the counter.

“Do you know him?”

“He’s in one of my seminars. Smart, but annoying as hell. We’re always partners; it infuriates me.” Ernst laughed, and decided not to say anything about how often Hanschen complained about one Melchior (who he figured this guy was) being an absolute know-it-all.

“That’s my Hanschen.”

“Where is he?” Wendla asked.

“He went to the bathroom. I hope he can find his way here.” Ernst peered down the hallway and, as if by magic, he saw his boyfriend striding towards him.

“There you are,” Hanschen said as he pulled up to Ernst’s side. “It’s so crowded in here; wanna go outside?” Ernst nodded and waved to Wendla and Melchi, but they had already forgotten their previous embarrassment and were back to making out.

Ernst followed Hanschen as he weaved his way through the crowd, until they finally stumbled outside.

“It got dark pretty quickly,” Ernst commented. The yard itself was just as massive as the house would indicate. There were lights strung around near the door, but as the yard stretched towards the forest behind, he could see less and less. The trees appeared to be dark greens and purples, and the clouds blocked any starlight. Ernst shivered.

“Here, take my coat,” Ernst was about to protest, but Hanschen had already slid the jacket over his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he said. “Won’t you be cold?” Hanschen shook his head.

“I’m fine.” He took Ernst’s hand.

“Are you sure? Your hands are freezing.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He looked off towards the woods. “Wanna take a walk?”

“Okay, but if something attacks us, it’s your fault.” Ernst wrapped his arms around Hanschen’s and they set off across the lawn, away from the loud noises of the party.

“What were you doing inside?”

“Just talking to a couple. They seemed nice, and were very confident. And you found the bathroom okay?” He nodded. “But you know what’s odd?”

“What?”

“They didn’t know this Bobby guy either.” Hanschen took a misstep; he must have tripped on a branch or something. “Are you okay?” Ernst held him up until he regained his footing.

“Fine, fine. What do you mean they didn’t know him?”

“Well, neither of them knew him, plus that guy at the door, plus us.”

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” he reassured. Ernst shook his head.

“But it’s so strange. Who gives out invitations to strangers? He sent it to our  _ house _ .”

“Maybe he’s just generous.”

“We keep saying  _ he _ , but no one seems to know who Bobby Maler is! And we haven’t even  _ met _ him yet! Maybe he’s not a guy! What if Bobby Maler’s a woman? What if...what if Bobby Maler’s a  _ shapeshifter _ ?” Hanschen stopped walking and rolled his eyes.

“Bobby Maler is _ not _ a shapeshifter.”

“How do you know? Have you ever seen one before?”

“No, and that would be an argument for me against you. Shapeshifters aren’t real, Ernst.”

“That’s what they want you to think.”

“Ernst, you’re being ridiculous. You need to relax. This is a party.”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I guess I got carried away.”

“Do you wanna go back inside?”

“I don’t really want to dance, but we can if that’s what you want to do.”

“That’s not really what I had in mind…” Ernst grinned.

“I guess there  _ are _ a million rooms in this house-”

“-One of them’s bound to be empty. Come on, I’ll race you to the door.” Laughing, they took off back up the lawn.


	2. Chapter 2

As Hanschen finished up in the bathroom, he heard a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” he called, drying off his hands. 

“Wait a sec,” the voice on the other side said, “Hanschen?” Hanschen swung the door open and saw none other than Melchior Gabor standing in front of him with a dark-haired girl holding his arm. Neither was wearing a shirt at the moment. Hanschen quirked an eyebrow.

“Dude, there’s like, a million rooms in this house. Do you really have to bone in the bathroom?” Melchior shrugged.

“You’re one to talk. We just saw you with your boyfriend. I guess that was over quickly.” 

“What? No. What do you mean you saw me with my boyfriend?” Hanschen left Ernst to go get drinks less than ten minutes ago. There was no way...

“Yeah,” Wendla said. “First you went outside, and then you came back in and went upstairs.”

“And now you’re here. Where’d you leave Ernst?” But Hanschen was still processing what Wendla said.

“You’re sure it was me?”

“I mean yeah. Who else-” before Melchior could finish his thought, Hanschen was pushed past him and raced to find the nearest staircase.

When he made it up the flight of stairs, he began to throw open doors left and right, but there were so many on this hallway. Some of them had couples inside them, others did not, but he still couldn’t find Ernst. So he started shouting Ernst’s name as he threw open doors. Then he moved to the next floor. Then the next. How many rooms were in this goddamned house? By this point, it had become almost mechanical. Throw open door, yell, and move on. That was until, he heard his name yelped in reply instead of the usual indignant shout.

“Hanschen?” He turned back around and saw his boyfriend,  _ his boyfriend _ , naked save for his underwear, with his arms wrapped around...himself. The not-him grinned in a way so wicked that Hanschen hoped he’d never looked like that.

“Holy shit,” Ernst breathed. “I was right.”

“What?” Hanschen said, barely able to process anything right now.  _ This imposter was fucking his boyfriend _ !”

“He is a shapeshifter!” Ernst shoved not-Hanschen off the bed, and he fell to the floor in a heap of sheets. Hanchen kicked the door shut behind him and grabbed at the nightstand. He took ahold of the lamp. It was metal, and fairly heavy. Good.

“You’re a bastard,” Hanschen said, brandishing the lamp. He saw not-himself laugh.

“No, I’m Bobby Maler.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” Hanschen said, and he swung the lamp at Bobby and heard a loud crack.

“You think that’s going to stop me? A lamp? I’m over a hundred years old, you moron.”

“Sounds pretty young to me,” he said.  _ CRACK. _ The lightbulb smashed. Blood was soaking Bobby’s shirt, and he still had the nerve to keep on Hanschen’s face. Ernst grabbed the other lamp.

“He didn’t even know I wasn’t you. Couldn’t even tell.”

“Well, you do a pretty good job, I’ll give you that.” Bobby shook his head.

“There have been others, though. Others who cared enough to know.”

“You’re lying,” Ernst said, followed by a whack to the side of the face. Bobby laughed harder.

“You wouldn’t know if I was.”

“But I know what you’re going to do,” Hanschen said. “You’re going to die before you can fuck around with anyone else.” Hanchen took his fractured lamp and drove it through Bobby’s chest with a surprising force and Bobby screamed as Hanschen and Ernst heard the sickening sound of his insides being pierced. Then his body began to change.

First it became someone Ernst vaguely recognized, the guy from the kitchen who had stepped behind him to grab a drink. Then it was some girl neither had seen before. Then an old man. Bobby’s form kept switching, faster and faster, until at last he became a nightmarish creature that was altogether inhuman, from its ashlike skin to its bulging black eyes. The blood that had been pouring from his chest spread onto the floor in a dark, sticky pool.

Ernst promptly threw up on the carpet.

When Ernst was finished, he got dressed, and Hanschen still stood, motionless, staring at Bobby’s grotesque body.

“Do you think there are other shapeshifters?” Ernst finally asked.

“I hope not,” he said, finally looking over at Ernst.

“Well,” he said. “I do not want to stay at this party any longer.”

“Me neither,” Hanschen said. They left Bobby’s corpse alone in the room and walked downstairs, holding tightly to each other.

“Wait,” Ernst said before they left. “Give me a minute? I’ve got vomit all over me.” The bathroom they found was cramped, and the door opened inwards, making it impossible for him both to stand in front of the sink with the door open.

“I’ll wait outside,” Hanschen said.

“I’d feel better if I could see you,” Ernst said.

“He’s dead. It’ll be alright.” Hanschen gave him a quick peck and Ernst closed the door partway, severing his sightline to the blond.

“And you’re still there?” Ernst said as he began to run the water.

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“And now?”

“And now.”

“Still?”

“Still.” Ernst turned off the tap, opening the door. He reached for Hanschen’s hand.

“Aw babe, you don’t need to be so afraid. Your hands are shaking.”

“Sorry, I’m still processing,” he said. 

They drove home in silence. When they got home, Hanschen took Ernst’s hand again.

“I’m not going to let go of you anymore. I don’t want some jealous shapeshifter taking you.” Ernst leaned over and kissed him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m all yours.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Hanschen Rilow came to, there was a pain throbbing in his forehead. His arms were bound together and he couldn’t stand up. He tried to scream, but it was muffled by the cloth gagging his mouth. He didn’t know where he was or how long he had been there, but he knew who had put him there.

_ Bobby Maler. _


End file.
